Futuristic O M E G A | Main

[Kir]

ACE

The music in the club moves Ace like a puppet on strings. A hand guides him through the club and into a back room. His head begins to throb, trying to avoid the thought of the hangover to come. Ace continues to pound drinks, keeping them flowing like they’re on IV Drip.

“Another dance, Sir?” The girl spoke softly through her plastic smile. Her skin glistened underneath the glow of the club lights as she looked at Ace. His cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth as he smirked back at the girl, “I’ll pay for you all night sweetheart, just tell me one thing.” The smell of alcohol on his breath fumes as he reaches towards the crotch his trousers.

“Anything you want to hear, Sir.” The girl whispered, leaning in over Ace, pressing her porcelain skin against his. She licked her lips, her electric eyes lighting up as she brushes her crotch against Ace’s leg.

“Where’s your owner?” Ace whispers, swiftly removing his trusty Number 1 from the front of his pants and placing the barrel into the girl’s gut. A menacing smirk still glued to his face. With the girl so close, Ace could hear her electronic hum over the club’s music. The physical gears in the girl’s head began to spin, conjuring a response. “I’m sorry Sir, you no longer have access-“ The girl is abruptly interrupted as a single shot fires off from inside the VIP room. The symbiotic fluid from the girl’s ceramic skull splashes all over Ace’s suit.

“Gah fuck!” Ace exclaimed, tossing the lifeless girl’s body to the ground. Screams from outside of the VIP room can be heard. Looking up from the dancer’s lifeless body, Ace can see a silhouette standing in the entrance to the VIP room. The man was Logan Messinger, Midtown’s club owner and Ace’s next contract.

“These damn Augment’s talk too much. But you, Ace, I’ll make sure you never speak again.” Logan cranked the hammer back on his revolver.

“Haha Logan! Buddy, old pal,” Ace put his weapon down next to him on the booth, taking a long drag from his cigarette, “Can’t we just talk man to man for a second?”

Logan’s eyes narrowed, his grip tightening around the handle of his revolver, “Black Syndicate won’t take me alive.”

Ace shrugged in response, “Your words, not mine.” Instantaneously Ace removed a dagger from his coat pocket, launching it across the room into his contract’s hand.

“MOTHER FUCK- AHH!” Logan screamed, as he fell to his knees. The dagger had pierced through the front of Logan’s hand, going through not only the bones in his fingers but also the revolver itself. The gun was now attached to his hand, courtesy of Ace’s impeccable aim. Blood squirts and pools all over the floor as Logan beckons in pain.

Standing up, Ace collected his weapon and walked over to Logan. “Thalia,” Ace spoke, placing his left finger to his ear, “Run a status check on Logan Messinger.”

“Certainly… Logan Messinger- blood levels low, body temperature 80 degrees Fahrenheit and dropping.”

“Time ‘til death?” Ace asks, ashing his cigarette.

“Time until death is approximately 45 minutes. Urgent medical care required.”

Interactions: Open

 

[okmelonn]

"Rory" McDoogle
Interactions: Open
Mentioned: Kir
Location: Bar of the club Midtown

In the cold and cruel vastness of space, it was sometimes hard to tell the days and nights apart. Under that swirling blanket of stars everything seemed to stir and mix together, time included. But boy, if Rorin hadn't been working their ass off all day then they didn't know what was right out here in this god-forsaken vacuum. A slow, relaxed, much-needed breath of relief escaped them as they finished checking the last of the backup generators. It had been a day without breaks, their walkman being their only reprieve from any possible comments of 'So when do you think you'll get this baby roarin' again?'.

Yes, their name was stupid. They weren't sure what snitch had leaked the full name that they tried so desperately to erase, but whoever had committed such a sin was getting a taste of rocket fuel and a lighter. Once they were found, that is.

Either way, the transmission, engine, weapons, structural integrity, and other such variables had been checked and repaired so that their performance absolutely shined. And though they loved their work with a passion, the poofy-haired mechanic felt like collapsing into bed and sleeping for the next 20 hours. However, they also considered that a quiet drink at the bar might soothe their nerves before they likely had to do more last-minute work once Ace returned to the ship. 'Nothing worse than disappointing the captain..' They thought. And this was the truth! On both a personal and technical level, they knew that there were repercussions for any errors made. So, they decided a drink might help them to loosen up before the next shift. Exiting the ship from where it was stationed, Rory gave a hearty pat to their beloved Omega. Their baby, in a sense, with how much they had worked on it. But now wasn't the time to be considering their work, it was time for a break. However, as they stepped into the club Midtown they slightly regretted not just partaking in one of the stale cans of beer on the ship. Nonetheless Rory made their way over to the bar and couldn't help but notice the absence of one blonde-haired ship captain. As well as the screams of various club-goers. 'Oh, yeah.. Another job, right? Huh. Wonder how that's going.'

With that well-timed thought, Rory began to order themselves a drink.

 

[Steve Freeling]

SteveInteractions: Kir Open
Location: Midtown VIP Room

The tall and slender young man was in a different part of the club and had arrived at a different time, figuring that it would probably be too suspicious if they arrived at the same time. He was with a woman chatting the time away, dressed in his usual red biker gear, his short dark brown hair in a nondescript style that suited him. The woman had gone on and on about how great it was being a drug dealer. Steve wasn't fooled, though.
"Oh, but being a dope dealer can't be all fun and games, can it?" He quirked an eyebrow, his blue eyes piercing as if he could see right through the woman.
"Damn! How could you know-?"
"I've watched too many of my friends from high school go up the river for it."
"Are you seri-?"
At that very moment, he heard the commotion involving a fight and someone who was probably their bounty having a bad time of it. That's my cue. I'm gonna make it even worse for the bastard.
"Sorry, there's something I have to go do."
"Hey, wait a minute! What's gotten into you?!"
Steve walked away, ignoring the woman's rants. As he got closer to the VIP room, he produced a SIG Sauer P226 from his jacket before entering the room. It was practically a bloodbath. The blood was coming from the hand of one Logan Messinger, their bounty. The hand in question had a revolver attached to it along with a small dagger.
"Don't move." He trained the firearm on their bounty before smirking slightly. "And what do we have here, huh? You're just the man we wanted to see. It's best not to struggle unless you don't actually value your life." There's no ship coming to rescue you. He crouched to look at the wound. That doesn't look so good.
"Shooo... You did a real number on this guy." He briefly spoke to his boss before turning back to the bounty. "Well, I don't think you'll be needing this anymore." Holding his own gun in his right hand, he used his left hand to rip the revolver and dagger away from Logan's hand with the force of an ox before standing up, moving away, and watching as his agony worsened. He removed the dagger and put it it one of his jacket's pockets before discarding the revolver in a waste basket. Soon, he was brandishing his handgun at the bounty again. I'll probably give the dagger back to Ace later.
"Get up. Don't even try to resist." His voice was calm and gave away no fear, anxiety or anger. Neither did his face. "Dead or alive, you're comin' with us." With that, the situation was pretty well defined.

 

[StaidFoal]

Anya and Zith
Interacting: Kir (Ace) Steve Freeling (Steve)
Nearby: okmelonn (Rory)​

"I swear that bastard's this close to havin' me stick the barrel of your shotty up his ass and blowin' his brains out!" As the Midtown club came into view, Anushka's face notably soured. Zithlo, towering high above his accomplice, stomped closely behind her as they neared the entrance. He said something in his native language of Driannosa, which to anyone who wouldn't understand, sounded like a mesh of clicks and gurgles that barely formed words. Anya promptly laughed. "Maybe we should just stick him in the trunk! And while we're at it, see if ol' Logan has somethin' to wash our clothes?"

Zith had to duck his head to enter the club, making sure the hefty briefcase with their weapons and guns didn't crash into any of the walls and such. The pair were quickly met with the usual sights: risqué women, sloven drunks, and shady muscular figures. The only scene she didn't account for was the scared patrons, rushing past the duo and out the doors. She sneered at the runners and their pathetic, fearful looks. "What're ya'll screamin' for? Thought I was walkin' into a club, not a chicken coop!" Zith then knelt towards Anya's ear, prompting a nod from the now interested girl. "But where's the fun in that? Should at least see what kind of mess he got himself into. Give ourselves a drink while we're at it." Zith continued his annoyed rambling, but was only waved away by her.

And before he knew it, she'd led him to the bar, sat beside a frizzy-looking person. "Don't look like that, big guy!" To any normal person, it wouldn't have looked like he changed his expression to begin with. "I'll be back before you know it! Just order somethin' from the bar guy, and I'll return before you even finish the drink!" And much to Zith's dismay, she was off. Not because of how reckless and adventurous she was at the moment, but because she didn't realize the bartender probably couldn't understand Driannosa.

But the least he could do was try. When the bartender approached, he gave his order: "⋮⚍ᓭℸ ̣ ∴ᔑℸ ̣ ᒷ∷." And as expected, the bartender didn't understand a single word he uttered.

Over on Anya's end, she eventually found the VIP room where the source of the terror apparently was. With an amiable smile plastered on her face, Anya yelled, "Logan, you asshat, you have some serious explaining to do!" before bursting into the room, hands on her hips. "That info you gave us? Completely outta—" Huh. This what they call karma? Anya cocked her head to the side at the scene, unable to hold in her chuckles. "Well fuck me gently, guess we ain't properly sickin' your ass like I'd have wanted to." She then looked at the crew members, putting on a genuinely thankful smile and even applauding. "Keep up the good work, people! Catching rats like him makes this world a much better place!" She whipped back around, intending to walk away as if not bothered in the least by the presence of Omega. "Don't mind me, I am of no importance whatsoever!"

 

[cybercrypt]

Mikhaela Cedenos
INTERACTIONS: StaidFoal
MENTIONS: okmelonn Kir Steve Freeling
LOCATION: Midtown Club
______________________________________​

Mikhaela laid reposed in her hammock, quietly humming to the warbling radio between intermittent drags of her cigarette. Feeble strands of wispy vapour were steadily emanating from the glowing incandescence, then saturated with a plume of haze as she exhaled the smoke. She wore a stern expression, with brows furrowed and eyes closed, gently nodding her head in tune to the undulating rhythms and flowing tempo. This was her little oasis aboard the Omega - tucked coolly away in the workshop's robotics quarter. Instruments of her profession were shoddily strewn about the machining workbench, which featured her own personal desktop, in an unruly but organized mess. She stubbed out the remainder of her tab, switched off the AC, then swung her legs from out the hammock, firmly planting her boots on the toolbox beneath her. Mikhaela stepped off it and wandered over to the radio, amping up the volume. She knew Rory hated the vociferous blaring of her questionable taste in music but without her busy presence lingering about the workshop, felt she was at liberty in doing what she pleased. The radio had been tweaked to emit an 'industrial, downtempo, sludge-funk' modulation, with an emphasis on swelling the bass so that it almost rattled the shelves. Skewered and loud, but that's how she vibed it.

Mikhaela tied her hair up in a bun, affixed her helmet, and busied herself with welding together the remnant components of her latest construct - a gleaming cyborg with polished metal and a reinforced endoskeleton. After inserting a charged power cell, tucking away her coil of wires, wrenching the control panel shut, and giving its freshly polished coat a proud spank, she flipped up the visor and put away her tools. She ushered the machine into a corner marked with yellow tape where it would await a prospective buyer who could fit a man-machine interface (MMI) into its cranium.

Time is money and she hadn't seconds to waste. Mikhaela unzipped her jumpsuit, tied it around her waist, donned her cap then set out for the bar with a cigarette stuck behind her ear. She had snatched one of the many canned beverages on her way out, cigarette pursed between two fingers as she gripped the can, and cracked it open with her teeth, immediately slurping its contents as they spilt around its aluminium inner rim. She wiped her mouth clean with a strident gasp as she strolled down the Omega's ramp, dismissing the contemptuous looks and strange glances. With a flick of her lighter, sparking the cigarette and indulging in a brew of smoke and stale beer, she neared the thumping resonations being emitted from the Midtown Club and savoured the last drops from her can before crushing it one hand and tossing it aside in the street.

"Pick it up and stub that shit out!" yelled a disembodied voice, presumably one of the bouncers riled by her unforgiving mannerism.
"Suck my dick," she'd happily retort, walking straight in with two fingers merrily thrown up behind her and with a jocular smirk on her lips. Mikhaela loitered about the lobby for a moment, observing the frolicking silhouettes rinsed in fluorescent vapours of stuttering strobes and pulsating lights, before dawdling in.

"Where to find you, brain-jockey..."

Just as Mikhaela was about to approach the bar some domineering individual barged past her, causing the cigarette to fly out her mouth.
"Logan, you asshat, you have some serious explaining to do!" she stormed toward the VIP section.

Mikhaela clenched her jaw and inhaled sharply, wondering who the fuck this Logan prick was, and stormed in tow with a spiteful glare. She approached the girl just as she spun around, misty locks obscuring her porcelain features as they whipped about her benign looking, and was about to unleash hell before spotting the scene which crested her shoulder. Mikhaela glanced her a semi-jaundiced look upon noticing both Ace and Steve. Mikhaela's eyes widened and she blocked Anya's path with crossed arms.

"Bitch, you owe me a cigarette."

 

[.9echo1.]

IAN “PRIEST” PRIESTLY

Interactions: Kir - Ace
Mentions: StaidFoal Steve Freeling cybercrypt okmelonn
Location: Inside the Nightclub​

He was walking, slowly, without a care in the world. With what little of a breeze there was outside on the street the urge to enjoy it was magnified, and as Ian continued to walk its cool touch almost seemed to lull him into a trance.

That trance was broken as the colorful, flashing, lights of the club brought him back to reality. It already seemed that the rest of the crew had made their way in judging by the general state of things. ”That.. looks very much like my people..” A singular thought ran through his mind as his eyes literally scanned the surroundings.

Accelerated heart rates, inebriation, and all manner of data and readings streak across Ian’s vision as he looks around. His gaze almost immediately lands on the room near the back of the club and another, single, thought crosses his mind. He rolls his eyes. ”Of course..”

He lets his head fall towards the floor before spitting upon it and making his way to the back. As he enters, his thoughts are confirmed. Sure enough the bounty they had been following was, quite bloody and beaten, in the back with the rest of the crew. Silently and without a word he makes his way over to Ace and motions over the man known as Logan. As he does his hand grazes the man and blood begins to drip from his fingers. His expression changes and he turns back to look at Ace.

”I have blood on me because of -this?- You could have easily done this yourself. You didn’t need to drag us all in here.” Ian’s tone was irritated but rather short of angered. It almost seemed that being in the presence of a bounty that was clearly not worth his time agitated him.

Without another word he drew the ‘Razor’ from his person. The blue plasma glowing brightly and lighting the area near them.

”This one was dead or alive, right?”

The move to end this mans life without another word, thought, worry, or care almost seemed second nature. If one were ignorant of Ian’s past they would see nothing but a cold, hardened, individual.

 

[ElectronicSnow]

Drez

Interactions: All / Open
Mentions: Rory, Ace
Location: Aboard the Omega bridge, docked

Drez reclined on his bunk aboard the Omega, the hum of the space port in the background. He was wearing baggy pants and a muscle shirt, absently chewing a stim stick. Rory had finished all the maintenance and it was surprisingly not too messy on the ship. Drez just had to watch over it until the others returned, or set off.

To pass the time Drez logged into his net-link console. He browsed to a seedy net site, one that hosted underground bounties and swiped through the sad faces. Nothing caught his attention. A banker, a smuggler, a family....all cheap bounties though. He swiped to another site. This one listed people buying safe passage through space, wanting to relocate without arousing any authorities (or criminals). The third site he swiped to, he stopped. A very pudgy man's face was plastered with WANTED ALIVE...PETER AKA THE MOON RAT...LAST KNOWN LOCATION ORION-40...DANGEROUS with a very enticing bounty. Peter had evidently picked the wrong side and sold out a few powerful friends. Drez starred the entry for later.

He got up and headed towards the bridge. Arriving, he saw a flashing terminal and a log entry.

"Thalia" Drez said aloud "most recent inquiry?"

"Most recent inquiry regarded Logan Messinger time to live" the computer replied

Thank you Thalia Drez thought. Good...we got him were we want him...I hope they keep him alive for a bigger bounty, and maybe pump him for information

Drez switched on a bridge terminal and checked the planetary defense force network (the crew had stolen the codes of course).

Sure enough defense force was chattering "Unit 32 and 54, minor disturbance reported in the Club midtown. Please fly by, code green...."

Drez switched off the defense network and tapped his left ear to a crew-wide channel "Hey Cap (Ace)..all..this is Drez...I'm not sure what's going on down there but you might have company...couple of defense force units headed your direction, they think there's been a tussle..."

Drez continued monitoring the comms.

 

[Kir]

Ace
Location: Midtown Club
Mentions: okmelonn Steve Freeling
Interactions: cybercrypt .9echo1. ElectronicSnow StaidFoal

​

Ace collected himself, watching as his crew surrounded the bounty. “Yeesh, bad day for you huh, Logan?” He grinned, wiping his bloody hands off on Messinger’s slumped over body, “Lucky for you the Syndicate is paying more to have you alive.” Ace nodded at Ian, sparking another cigarette from his coat pocket. “No promises though.” He winked, slapping Logan’s back as muffled radio conversation played over his earpiece.

“Hey Cap… Couple of defense force units headed your direction …”​

“Steve let’s get a tourniquet on this bitch and round up the boys.” He removed a pair electromagnetic cuffs from his back pocket and tossed them to Steve. Walking out of the VIP room, he pulled Ian close, whispering in his ear, “If you fuck up another bounty because your trigger finger gets the best of you, I swear this will be the last time your robocop ass sets foot on Omega.” He tapped on Ian’s bionic headgear. “We don’t need another Edison incident, Priest.”

Ace quickly made his way out onto the main floor of the club, whistling towards the bar. He made eye contact with Rory, signaling her towards the entrance. “Time. To. Go.” He mouthed in her direction. On his way towards the doors he bumped into some unfamiliar faces. “The fuck is this?” He whispered under his breath, looking the seven-foot-something swamp monster up and down. The sound of sirens gradually became louder. Ace tugged on Mikhaela, “Hey M, look- it’s great that you’re making friends and all, but we have some bigger things to deal with.” He glanced back at Zith, putting his finger to his ear.

“Drez, you got an ETA on these guys? We need the ship spun up, NOW.”

​

 

[cybercrypt]

Mikhaela Cedenos
INTERACTIONS: StaidFoal Kir
MENTIONS: .9echo1. ElectronicSnow Steve Freeling
LOCATION: Midtown Club
______________________________________
​

Mikhaela lingered her glowering expression upon Anya with an unflinching resolve as unbridled rage swelled deep within the pit of her stomach, sparking a fire that began to torch her nerves with spiteful pangs of teeth-gritting ferocity. All this over a cigarette? She thought. You're losing it, you crazy bitch. Mikhaela released the tension in her jaw and softened her eyes when Ace approached them, his presence helped temper her irritation to a simmer.

“Hey M, look- it’s great that you’re making friends and all, but we have some bigger things to deal with.”

Mikhaela kept the gaze still, reeling her further into the scowling competition. And then, for the briefest of moments, and of which could be measured on a pin's prick, Mikhaela flickered the illusion behind her eyes and tripped Anya into the cavernous void, observed with a shocking realization on Anya's behalf that, Mikhaela, might just be a fucking sociopath.

She slowly dropped her arms before turning to stand next to him and Ian, breaking eye contact on the apex of her pivot as Ace replied to Drez.

“Drez, you got an ETA on these guys? We need the ship spun up, NOW.”

Mikhaela noticed the Drurlian-Cephalopod while the captain replied to Drez. It loomed there with a frightening presence - intended or not. "Nasty fucker. The size of him." She mumbled incoherently, her mind busy entertaining the prospect of a spirited nightclub shootout - something she had eagerly read in comics and keenly wanted to imitate. She slid a screwdriver from her toolbelt and, in a discreet manner, began calibrating her bionic arm with a series of twists and a tightening of valves. The propellant cartridge hissed with a fizzing quip as the cylinders, catalyst packs and valve banks pumped gas through the distribution lines, and engaged the forearm cylinders. She neatly tucked the screwdriver away into her pocket, confident the very illegal fine-tuning would pack a greater punch than usual - something capable of fracturing bones.

"Didn't bring a weapon," she flatly mentioned to them both. Instantly, she had an idea. "Mh, be right back."

Mikhaela entered the club's VIP section and was greeted by Steve securing the bounty. She noticed Logan's hand and flashed him a jabbing grin. "You take his gun-" she paused while talking to Steve, realizing he had stashed it into a wastebasket. "Ah," she exclaimed, snatching it out of the bin and observing its chamber. "What the fuck..." she said quietly to herself, noticing how the knife had been launched straight through it.

She had no time to assess its durability as sirens began materializing into a shrieking wail from outside the nightclub. She then rejoined both Ace and Ian.

 

[.9echo1.]

IAN “PRIEST” PRIESTLY​

​

Interactions: Kir cybercrypt StaidFoal
Mentions: ElectronicSnow okmelonn Steve Freeling​

The Edison incident. Ace always had an interesting ability to calm Ian down, and the Edison incident, happened to be one of these. Bardok Edison was a rather important bounty. He was wanted by the Syndicate - his inventions, information, and knowledge in the realm of anti-matter weapons was vast and in some spheres Edison was looked to as a revolutionary in the arms manufacturing and experimentation world. In a bounty that was better off ‘alive’ for obvious reasons - Ian’s mood that day along with various other happenings evolved into the very dramatic and quite brutal slaying of said bounty. Needless to say this incident was one of the factors in them both leaving the Syndicate.


Rolling his eyes he pressed a button on the ‘Razors’ handle and the blue plasma blade dissipated into thin air.

“You have a way with words, buddy.”

Ian turned then to Anya and Zith. “I don’t know what you both plan on doing but it sounds like we’re about to party. I hope you can both handle this. If not, ‘we’re’ here.” A short grin formed beneath the bionic upper portion of his face, the dull red glow from his cybernetic visual overlay casting an odd shadow over his lip.

With that he drew Layla, swinging the assault rifle around, back over his shoulder. With a final remark, he let out a gruff chuckle, “We all know M is ready to fight.” He was rather amused as she cocked the pistol, obviously revolted by its state.

 

[StaidFoal]

Anya and Zith
Location: Midtown Club
Interacting: cybercrypt (Mikhaela) Kir (Ace) .9echo1. (Ian)
Nearby: okmelonn (Rory) Steve Freeling (Steve)
​

An exceedingly ruder woman rudely blocked Anya's swift exit, earning a sneer from the bandit girl. "Eh? And who the hell're you?" Anya stood her ground, looking more confused than frustrated. This stranger looked ready to kill; some drunkard who mistook her for someone else? Anya inwardly shrugged. "Look lady, unless your name's Jacqueline, Hester, Allen, or Yakov, then I don't owe anyone nuthin'." As she spat her piece, Anya locked eyes with the woman. She was surprised, all right; surprised so much that she burst into laughter, combined with several obnoxious snorts. "I love this joint! It's not every day I get into a spout with a someone like you!"

When the looming noise of sirens reached him, Zith slowly peered at the entrance. He let off what sounded like a gurgle and a sigh mixed together, before slamming a fist into the bar counter. It snapped the piece of furniture in two, sending the bartender reeling back and spilling whatever drinks were on the counter. He gripped the briefcase, hurriedly rushing to where Anya said she was. Said partner stopped laughing as her infuriated accomplice drew near. "↸ᔑᒲリ ᓭꖎ⚍⊣! ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ||'∷ᒷ ⍑ᒷ∷ᒷ!" he yelled, stretching his arms out to the side in dismay. He slowly ran his hands over his face. Not a second later, he laid the briefcase on a nearby table, revealing a plethora of guns and ammunition.

Anya rolled her eyes, walking over to the briefcase. "Yeah, yeah, sorry you had to endure the time to enjoy some fancy bar drinks. What can I say, you really took one for the team!" Regardless, she retrieved her LMG. Zith already took his weapons, drooping his double-barreled shotgun in one hand and the grenade launcher pistol in the other. Upon seeing the Omega members, Zith prepared to follow their protocol and almost raised his weapons, if it weren't for Anya stopping him with a smirk. "Relax, big guy. You said the defense bastards were after us, yeah? Then we have a common enemy!" She winked at Ace, the apparent captain of the crew.

She raised a brow at Ian like he'd asked a stupid question. As Zith loaded his shotgun with its powerful shells, Anya lugged her own weapon up to her hip. "Ain't it obvious?" As if on queue, Zith cocked his shotgun. "We're shootin', stabbin', and stranglin' these fucks! You'd know by now if you saw our enormous bou—" Zith slapped his hand over her mouth, kneeling over to whisper something in her ear. She nodded, giving him a cheerful thumbs up. "If you saw our enormous bouchow of bullets we have!"

From the briefcase, Zith took a bundle of grenades meant for his grenade launcher pistol. He stampeded his way around the bar, trapping the place with idle explosives for Anya or anyone else to shoot. They were all set up against the wall adjacent to the entrance. "⎓𝙹∷ ℸ ̣ ⍑ᒷ ↸ᒷ⎓ᒷリᓭᒷ ʖᔑᓭℸ ̣ ᔑ∷↸ᓭ!" he yelled out.

"He says they're for the defense bastards!" Anya translated as she pushed over a long bar table (one that wasn't destroyed by Zith) and set up near the entrance. Zith stood beside her, both rubbing the triggers of their weapons in anticipation.

 

[ElectronicSnow]

Drez

Location: Aboard the Omega bridge, docked
Interactions: Kir (Ace) / Open
Mentions: All Omega team members

Drez sat at the ship's conn terminal, to the left of the captain's chair. From here he could access the ship's flight controls. He suspected Cap would want a quick pick up.

"Thalia, prepare ship for departure, disconnect fueling hose, disconnect charging hose, seal off the ship's docking door" Drez did not wait for Thalia's reply as Ace's voice cut in.

“Drez, you got an ETA on these guys? We need the ship spun up, NOW.”

Drez motioned at the terminal screen which switched itself to the communications panel.

"Cap I'm going to patch them through and broadcast, I am trying to get the ship ready to undock." Drez entered a series of commands and the Planetary Defense Force channel piped into the team's channel.

"Unit 32 to base"​

​

"Go ahead unit 32"​

​

"Show myself and 54 on scene, we are just down the street from the club. Multiple patrons reporting an armed confrontation. Requesting backup." ​

​

"Received unit 32. Tactical Group 7 is en route, ETA 10 minutes. Sending a support ship to ensure no crafts leave the vicinity."​

​

"Copy base, tactical en route. We are going to adv...." ​

The radio cut off. Drez looked at the screen and pressed his left ear and broadcast. "They rotated encryption keys....we've lost their comms link."

Drez switched back to the flight control screen, trying to answer Cap's question on spinning the ship up. Drez keyed in a request to de-dock from the station.

An automated voice came into Drez's comm link. "This is the Inner-Planetary Flight Control Center. Thank you for your request to de-dock. You are currently 14th in line. Your de-docking is important to us. Please hold until the all-clear is received. If you would like to speak to a flight controller, please key-in 1 now."

This is GREAT. Drez thought. He hit "1". The automated voice replied "I'm sorry. All flight controllers are assisting other ships. Stay on this channel, your message is important to us..." I wish we had stolen some flight control codes Drez thought.

Drez tapped his left ear, broadcast: "This is bad Cap. I can't undock right now. I can either blast out of here and rip parts off the docking clamps and ship, or we’ll have to rendezvous elsewhere…the PDF will be on you in under 10.”

Spoiler: OOC

The Planetary Defense Force units probably only carry side arms. The Tactical Group will be a full team (5 or so?) with side arms and laser rifles/carbines. I'll have to meet you guys in a field or something

 

[okmelonn]

"Rory" McDoogle
Interacting: kinda just everyone??
Mentioned: ElectronicSnow
Location: Heading towards the docked Omega

Rory, in attempts to ignore the very obvious yelling and commotion coming from the rest of the club, sat and drank their margarita. If life wouldn't allow them a piece of quiet, maybe ignoring the situation could assist in that? At least at the bar all seemed quite calm and normal. The drink was well-made, and the atmosphere wasn't half bad if you excluded the hostage and the other space-pirates in the back. Not even the large tentacle-ridden man sat a few seats down seemed like too much to handle. Rory gave a small wave to him before going back to sipping at their drink.

Suddenly and unfortunately, the stillness of the moment was broken by the sound of shuffling feet and arguing as Rory looked over to meet Ace's glance. Something they knew they could never ignore no matter how much they tried. They nodded simply at his words, slapping a payment down on the bar counter which seemed to have been abandon in all the commotion. And as they began to rise from their seat was when they heard the sound of sirens fast approaching. "Shit." The mechanic mumbled under their breath as they grabbed their drink and headed over to the group. Was it already too late to bolt to the ship? Did they have to be trapped here in another shootout? The thought alone made Rory's stomach twist with rage. "I'm running up ahead. There's no way I'm letting anything happen to that fucking ship. Not after today." They spoke to nobody in particular, hand pressed against the gun they kept at their side and exiting the bar to make a run onto the ship. And while they moved, being as stealthy as possible, a silent prayer was whispered. "For the love of all that is good and earthen and eldritch.. Please have whoever the hell is manning the controls right now be able to handle it until I get there. If anything is broken or on fire I am going to throw myself into the vastness beyond. I really am going to do it this time. Seriously." A small sigh came from them as they continued making their way towards the ship.

 

[Steve Freeling]

SteveInteractions: Kir cybercrypt Open
Mentions: .9echo1. ElectronicSnow StaidFoal
Location: Midtown VIP Room

It wasn't even that long before a woman unknown to them entered the room. Who the hell's this lady? She's smiling but I'm guessing she's pissed as hell. Wait a sec. "That info you gave us?" Daaaamn... Looks like Logan's been a naughty boy, giving people crappy info and crap. Before long, Mikhaela entered, none too pleased. Whoa, I wonder what she did to piss Mikhaela off. "You owe me a cigarette." One of the fortunate things about being a non-smoker is that I don't drop too much of my hard-earned money into cigarettes aside from buying them for other people. If one was honest, it was safe to say Steve disliked smoking but he didn't hassle others if they did. Hey, I'm not the one poisoning my lungs and you know, free will and all that. If they attempted to force him to smoke, they were either going to be punched if they were male or cursed out if they were female. Before he could dwell further on the thought, Ian arrived looking to kill Logan and get it over with. There he goes with the Razor again. The entire Omega crew was familiar with the plasma sword and the fact that Ian wouldn't hesitate to cut someone with it. Lighten up, bruh. When I said, "Dead or alive," it was a scare tactic. I didn't mean for it to be taken literally. Damn, did Priest used to be a serial killer or an assassin? He has such an itchy trigger finger. Before he could think about that much longer, they heard from Drez about the Planetary Defense Force.
"Ah, damn it," he muttered. "Just when my coil was reachin' the green line." Within seconds, Ace threw Steve a pair of high-tech cuffs, directing him to secure the bounty.
"Sure thing, boss." He snapped the cuffs on Logan without hesitation, also taunting him while Ace had Ian know a few things. I'm guessing the Edison incident was no fun. Is Priest rolling his eyes?
"Priest here actually wanted to kill you, didn't he? Lucky for you, the boss has a way with words. That and you're not even worth killing." He jerked on the cuffs lightly. "Get up. You're goin' for a ride, pal."
Not long after, Mikhaela asked if Steve had taken Logan's gun. A smirk formed. "Sure did, and in the worst way possible."
He stifled a giggle as Mikhaela examined the damage done to the discarded firearm. He won't be using that one for a while. Before he could think on that one much longer, the woman spoke of having a common enemy. One thing she said immediately raised a red flag as his eyes widened in shock. Strangling?! Whoa, wait a sec. That's kind of harsh. They're just doing their jobs. Damn, she's just like Priest wanting to kill people all the time. It also didn't escape his notice that she was about to say what sounded like "bounty" before her alien friend cut her off. Wait, "bounty?" Was she actually gonna say that in front of a bunch of cowboys she doesn't know from Adam? What language is that? I'll have to do some research on it later. Also, they're actually planning on blowing some guys up who probably don't even have it coming? I- Right then, they heard from Drez. Great, so we're trapped.
"Damn it."

 

[ElectronicSnow]

Drez
Location: Aboard the Omega bridge, docked
Interactions: okmelonn / Open
Mentions: n/a

The automated voice came back on "Thank you for your request to de-dock. You are currently 11th in line. Your de-docking is important to us. Please hold until the all-clear is received."

Screw this Drez thought. He punched in a command to fire up the ship's thrusters. He was going to accelerate his way out of these docking clamps. "Thalia, prepare ship for departure!" he shouted.

Drez moved his hand and the thrusters expelled hot gas. The ship lurched forward. It wouldn't budge! Drez increased power and heard a metallic scrape of the docking clamps on the hull.

"Hull damage is imminent. Disengage thrusters." Thalia's voice sounded. Drez backed off the thrusters. Dang I guess we aren't going anywhere. He powered them down.

In the distance, Drez saw a rather short figure moving hurriedly towards the ship. He exited the bridge and went down the hall to a small hatch, opening it up. Drez yelled to the figure who was now decidedly Rory "Hey! I'm glad to see you!" waving his arms. They're not going to like this cosmetic damage.

Drez slid down the side of the ship as Rory pulled up.

"Hey Rory..." Drez looked down, knowing they could see the damage "So I tried to blast out of here but the ship won't move. Do you think you can find a way to get these docking clamps off?"

The two docking clamps gripped the starboard and port sides of the ship's hull. There was damage along the hull where Drez tried to force them off by flying out of them. Nothing looked too bad, although there might be some kind of leak....Without removing the two docking clamps, they would have to wait for clearance from the flight controllers to de-dock. And by then, the crew might be in a bad spot.

 

[okmelonn]

'Rory' McDoogle
Interactions: ElectronicSnow
Mentioned: cybercrypt
Location: Lower levels of the Omega

Rory barely felt themselves growing tired as they ran towards the entryway to the ship, watching Drez emerge as he pulled down the door for them to enter. To his greeting, they simply nodded and stepped inside. And though they knew what was coming, what he was about to say, the disappointment inside of them grew bigger and bigger. All of their work... Even just thinking about having to redo something made Rory sigh. Never a moment of rest, they supposed. "Why.. Why would you try to.. Urg.." They let out a small groan. "Okay, okay. Uh, Drez, I'm gonna need you to watch my back while I do this. Thalia should be able to prepare for liftoff and minimize damage with the new programming... And so I should be able to manually disengage the clamps, but I'll need you to tell me if anything starts sparking or sets on fire or else I might.. Uh.. Be burnt alive and all." They made a small explosion gesture with their hands as they finished their statement. Though they preferred to work alone, they decided that having Drez spot them was better than taking the risk of dying alone in the interior of a starship. Everybody was still out and scattered, so it's not like they could have Mikhaela or any other engineer help them. "We should be able to get there through the workshop area.. There's some tunnels for pipes and stuff that run through the ship, and I should be able to reach the docking clamps that way. Come on, lets get moving, then." As Rory began to walk, they threw another glance back towards Drez. "Oh, also... I'm not taking any of the fall for damage on the ship. Please.. Get me first next time. damn it I leave for one minute..." With the last part in a whisper, they began to rush down towards the lower levels of the Omega.

 

[Kir]

ACE

Location: Midtown Street
Mentions: Omega
Interactions: Open

Ace exited the club, staring awestruck at the midnight sky as multiple PDF cruiser ships approached from the distance. “I’m gonna need a bigger gun...” He sighed, removing his Number 1 from the holster on his belt. Sirens echoed off of the neon architecture as the cruisers approached overhead. The hot air from the thrusters blew trash and debris around the vacant street. A spotlight shined down on Ace as he stood alone contemplating his next move.

“Stay frosty Omega, looks like we’re blasting our way out of this bitch.” He called over his earpiece, cupping his eyes from the blinding light above.

“Unit 32 to Base, be advised – Our unit along with 54 are now on scene at the 10-31 with TG7. It appears one of our suspects has exited the club sporting what appears to be a small caliber hand gun. We’re dismounting our ground units now.”

“10-4 32, Base out.”

The cruisers opened their doors, releasing the PDF ground forces from above. Six ground units scanned the area, approaching Ace from across the street with their weapons drawn.

“Scanning suspect,” The robotic voice shouted, sending a bionic scan from their eyes to Ace. “Drop your weapon, I repeat drop your weapon!”

Ace raised his hands, still in grip with the revolver. A sinister smirk was glued to his face, anticipating what the next move would be.

 

[StaidFoal]

Anya and Zith
Location: Midtown Club Main Entrance
Interacting: PDF Forces
Nearby: Everyone​

While Anya and Zith stayed behind the bar as cover for the incoming onslaught, one of the other rabble-rousers seemed to get the bright idea of stepping out to meet the police. "The hell's your guy doin'?" Anya asked, though Ace probably had some sort of plan for the next action. She bit her lip, growing paranoid over whatever was bound to happen if they stayed in place. Eventually she looked up at Zith, pulling back her LMG. "Scrap this idea! Zith, you take up! And leave those bombs there! We're covering our tracks through them, now!"

Zith blinked at her before reluctantly holstering his weapons. The alien hopped on one of the more sturdier tables, bringing his head on the verge of colliding with the ceiling. Then, he threw his fist upwards, unleashing a small cloud of dust and rubble. He'd punched a hole that led to the roof, and he reached through it to grasp hold of anything, really. Zith slithered and disappeared through the hole in the ceiling, while Anya stood smirking at the front door.

The entrance was kicked open, revealing the woman who arrogantly strode beside Ace.

"Drop your wea—"

"Say '⊣𝙹𝙹↸ʖ||ᒷ' to your robot balls!" Anya pulled the trigger, spraying dozens of bullets at the cops in front of her. The PDF forces to the side aimed their own weapons, only to be blasted away and presumably killed by a sudden explosion, shot from the bar's rooftop. The PDF's radio chatter went haywire with orders and yells. Zith revealed himself with his pistol grenade launcher going mad. He prioritized the vehicles, sending pillars of smoke and fire barreling into the sky. Anya cackled over the gunfire, then diving behind cover: an abandoned vehicle owned by one of the club-goers.

At the same time, Zith ducked to avoid the incoming fire, only to notice a squad of three PDF units had climbed onto the rooftop, guns drawn. "Surrender quietly! Or we'll—" Following another explosion, the agent was splattered in five different directions. The other two were blown back by the shockwave. From the smoke cloud before them, Zith's face emerged as he hopped across the gap made by his explosion. He unloaded the two shells of his double-barreled shotgun into the agent who tried to draw his gun. Zith glared at the last agent, who was now panicking. The alien dropped his guns to the side, wrapping his hands around the agent's head. The cop would have felt an immense pressure, first popping his ears as he desperately yelled for help. Then, a second, more squelching pop. The agent went limp as Zith retrieved his weaponry.

More sirens blared in the distance as Anya finished off the first wave, reloading her LMG. "Zith! Get your ass down here! We're leaving Once you blow up this shithole!" If anyone was still inside the bar, they'd have noticed Zith poking his hand through one of the holes in the ceiling, aiming his shotgun at the bombs he'd placed earlier.